


Penance

by GreenPhoenix



Category: Homicide: Life on the Street, Oz (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-06 01:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenPhoenix/pseuds/GreenPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim Bayliss serves his sentence in Oz. He's suicidal and meets someone there who might change his mind. A crossover set after Homicide the movie and during Oz's fourth season or so. TW for discussion of depressive thoughts. A certain disgraced policeman from another show shows up briefly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penance

“You want me to kill you,” he says, a smile on his face, my new cellmate. His eyes are dark with emotion.  
“Yes,” I manage.  
“I could..but it would be a waste.”  
“Why?” I ask looking at him.  
“Anybody ever tell you you’re hot?"  
“Not in so many words.”  
“Well you are..I can think of better things to do with you,” he leers. His point is very clear.  
“Thanks I guess.” I’m as uneasy as ever with these matters.  
“Anytime..the storage room is always good for these things..”  
“I’ll bet.”  
“It’s good for killing too,” he says in a lazy drawl.  
“Ah. Maybe we could do both,” I say only half-joking.  
“Sounds good. How about right now?”  
“I don’t think I’m ready yet..Maybe just the fun part”  
“Gotcha. See you in five,” With that he leaves me to ponder my life choices. Confessing to the murder of Luke Ryland has led me here, to a place, which has no yellow brick road. None of my old values count for anything here. It’s just eat or be eaten. Guess I’ll be eaten. Chris Keller has a predator’s instinct, and that’s not just idle prison gossip. I know his type; I put a few behind bars myself. Funny I should be attracted to him, or maybe just far too apt. He’ll be the death of me yet. I hope.  
*

In the storage room he takes me in his mouth and it’s so good. I can’t remember the last time anyone did this to me. I see actual stars at the moment of the little death. I almost consider calling the hit off. Almost. But one bout of good sex isn’t enough.  
*  
Emma Zoole of all people is the first to visit. Guess prisons turn her on. The no conjugals rule upsets her, but she keeps writing these obscene letters. Keller is amused and I let him have them. Something to pass the time I guess. I hear him jerk off to them at night and I won’t pretend it doesn’t affect me. I keep thinking of Frank. Bet he won’t come to visit.  
*  
“You will let me fuck you won’t you?” he asks as we pass the time by playing chess.  
“Sure. “ I say, trying not to sound as turned on as I am.  
“Tonight after lights out,” he says. “That’s a promise pretty boy.”  
“Good.” I say.  
*  
After lights out we’re all over each other. In the dark his eyes are almost black. He resembles some dark angel I think before my brain functions cease to work.  
*  
Chris Rawls comes to see me. He’s still hoping it can work out somehow. I tell him not to get his hopes up. His face as he leaves is darkened by pain. I wish I could be better for him. I wish I’d never done the things I did after Frank left. But the path was unclear without him. Like it is now.  
*

Keller keeps mentioning his great love that now won’t speak to him. I can think of a few reasons why. He’s the complete opposite of Frank. He’s what I deserve right now. He’ll be the death of me and I won’t mind. Everyone seems to know the Beecher/Keller story here. Some mentions it with reverence, others with scorn. Love does that to people. Blurs the lines of what’s true and false. Reveals your true nature.  
*  
Sister Pete tries to talk some sense into me. It won’t work. If God exists he’s already given up on me. I’m not worthy of any redemption. I tell her I’m scum and she winces. She won’t give up so easily. Says she knows I’m better than I say. Says God will follow me if I believe in him. Which I don’t.  
*  
“I won’t kill you,” says Keller,one night after lights out, his eyes bright and hard.” Not ever”  
“Why?” I wonder. He’s never had any qualms about that sort of a thing before if all the stories I hear are true.  
“It’s no fun when you want it so bad.” He allows. “And I like you.”  
“Then the deal’s off,” I sigh.  
“Good. Now come here..” he purrs.  
I do. I’ll just have to push until he changes his mind.  
*  
We spend some time just being. Eating, fucking, playing chess. We get along fine. I don’t call Keller by his first name, that name is reserved for someone I have deeper feelings for. But Keller’s here and Rawls can’t be here with me every grey day stretching into oblivion. I wait for the courage to take that final step or push someone to do it for me.  
*  
Another ex-cop turns up. A red-haired guy called Charlie who claims he was framed. I talk to him about Buddhism; he appears to take it to heart without grasping the deeper meaning. He’s in the hole most of the time for getting into fights. He really needs something to believe in. I fuck him once in the showers. He appears serene and untroubled for the first time since we’ve met. When he comes he whispers something about apples. He’s beautiful. It’s the first time I’ve seen beauty in anything in this hellhole.  
*  
At night I think of Chris Rawls and the way he’d look at me sometimes. Like I was worth something to him, a treasure of some kind. I think he meant it too. I recall the taste of him in my mouth, the way his expressive green eyes caught the light when we were together. Nothing in here can compare to the vivid colors I saw on the outside. Here it’s mostly monochrome.  
*  
One day I see the gloomy light and think,“ I won’t do it”  
Death is the easy option. I’ll live and suffer. That way I’ll atone for my sins.  
Keller merely sighs when I tell him. He and Beecher are talking again. Their weird tango is on again. I’ll miss whatever it was that we had, but it’s for the best in the end. Those two were meant for each other. Someone must have thought they had lessons to teach one other. Their penance for sinning maybe.  
*  
When Rawls comes back I tell him to wait for me. He smiles and kisses my face. Some heavily tattooed biker calls us some slur or other. I’ve had worse. And I’ve seen him on his knees in front of some other biker in the storage room. Takes one to know one I guess. I don’t care anymore. The darkness is no longer so visible. I won’t see Frank, but at least I have someone who cares.


End file.
